


I've Got Plenty to Be Thankful For

by angel



Series: Neal Hughes [6]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Christmas, Family, Gen, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt Neal Caffrey, Hurt/Comfort, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 08:55:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13096695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel/pseuds/angel
Summary: Neal's second Christmas with the Hughes family is supposed to be so much better than the first one.  Then, he gets shot during an undercover op.





	I've Got Plenty to Be Thankful For

**Author's Note:**

> Written for whitecollarhc's Advent 2017. It's still Dec 21st in my time zone :D Many thanks to pooh_collector for her encouragement, and to everyone who gave me some ideas for where to go with this story. Title from the song of the same name from the classic movie _Holiday Inn_.
> 
> This is unbetaed because work and family commitments meant this was finished at the last minute. I hope you enjoy!

Neal knew as soon as he heard that gunshot that he was in trouble. Before he could even finish the thought, he was crumpled on the ground, right hand wrapped around his upper left arm where the bullet had hit. 

The pain was intense. He was vaguely aware of other gunshots, of Diana's voice reading someone their Miranda rights, of Peter kneeling beside him and apologizing as he squeezed Neal's wound. 

He lost more time, briefly aware of being in the back of an ambulance and then in the ER. Eventually, he woke in a hospital bed, feeling drugged and exhausted. Peter was standing by the window with his back to Neal, which gave Neal time to gather his senses as best he could. 

The blinds were open, and it was dark outside. He'd had his meeting with the suspect at two in the afternoon, so he'd been out for at least a few hours. His room was private, and aside from Peter, there wasn't anyone else in the room, so he assumed that not much time had passed. 

His arm was wrapped tightly with bandages and secured against his body with a sling. His other hand had an IV and the pulse ox monitor, which annoyingly made his uninjured hand nearly useless. 

"He's doing all right," Peter said, and Neal realized he was talking on his cell phone. "The doctor said he'd wake up at any time." He paused and then nodded. "I'll let you know if anything changes, and when he wakes up, I'll tell him you're on your way home."

He must be talking to Reese or Cathy, who were out of town with Emma. When she had been ill, she'd put together a list of museums and art galleries that she wanted to visit. Neal had marked several for them to see together when he was off-anklet, but since he was unable to leave New York, their parents had been taking her to see some of the others when time allowed. Neal couldn't remember which city they were in, but they were clearly on their way back to NYC. 

Peter slipped his cell into his pocket as he turned around, and Neal gave a little wave from the bed with his encumbered but uninjured hand. "Hey! You're awake." Peter sat in the chair beside the bed and patted Neal's knee. "How are you feeling?"

"Hazy. Did I really get shot?"

Peter frowned, which was enough confirmation for Neal. 

"How bad?"

"Could have been worse, but your left arm will be out of commission for a few weeks. The bullet hit you here," Peter indicated the outside of his own upper left arm, "and went straight through but it caused a lot of muscle damage and grazed the bone causing a hairline fracture. That's fortunate. You don't want to break that bone. So you'll be in a sling for about six weeks, and then you'll be doing PT for another several weeks."

This was not good news. This was, in fact, terrible news. Neal groaned. "I have so much to do for Christmas though. Last year was awful, and I wanted to make it up to the Hugheses."

"Elizabeth and I would be happy to help."

Neal sighed. "Thanks, but that's okay. Maybe I'm just not meant to have a good Christmas with them."

"Hey," Peter waited until he had Neal's full attention, "you're going to be okay, and you'll be able to spend the holidays with your family. Today could have gone a lot differently."

Neal held his gaze for a moment before nodding. "What happened?"

"What do you remember?"

"We had a meeting with Ronald Flynn, suspected embezzler. He was nervous, twitchy. It happened so fast. I didn't see a gun, but I heard the shot."

Peter looked away and rubbed a hand over his face. He was trying to school his expression, but Neal could see the guilt. "Flynn pulled a gun from under his desk and got the shot off before we could get inside. Diana was first through the door, and she took him down. Shot him in the shoulder." Peter tapped his right shoulder, close to the neck. 

Neal winced when he remembered the agony of his own wound. The pain was still there, lurking below the heaviness of medication. As much as he wanted to continue this conversation, exhaustion was suddenly upon him. 

A hand patted his knee again, and Neal blinked over at Peter, who smiled gently at him. "Get some rest. We'll talk more later."

~~!!~~

The next morning, Reese, Cathy and Emma were at the hospital and insisted on taking Neal home to the brownstone when he was released. They bundled him in the car with an extra pillow to support his arm, and all the pain medication the hospital would give him, and headed to West 84th.

All three trailed behind him as he made his way up the stairs and into Michael's room where he usually stayed when he spent the night. His arm ached, but he was still pretty medicated, so it was more of a dull annoyance. 

Emma slipped around him and pulled the covers down before he could get near the bed. "Do you need anything? I'll go and grab you a glass of water."

"I'm okay," Neal assured her. "I'm just tired."

She nodded and hurried out of the room while Cathy hovered as he eased himself down to sit on the mattress, and then she knelt to help him pull off his shoes. "Of course, you should get some rest." 

Reese had taken his coat as soon as they'd gotten into the house, so he was down to his t-shirt, a pair of sweatpants and socks. He just then realized that Reese was missing from the room. "Where's Dad?"

"Peter dropped off a bag of your things early this morning, as we were leaving for the hospital. He'll bring it up in a few minutes." Cathy fussed over him as he got under the covers and lay down. "Truth be told, he's probably calling the office to check on your case."

"My case?"

"Don't worry yourself." Cathy waved a hand at him and headed for the door. "Rest now, and I'll check on you in a little while."

He started to call after her but Emma came back into the room with a glass of water, a couple of orange prescription bottles, and his cell phone, which he hadn't seen since he'd gone undercover. 

"Thought you might be looking for this."

"Yes, thanks." He took the phone and activated the screen. There were multiple text and missed call notifications that he wasn't up to facing just yet. He wanted to sleep but what Cathy said was nagging at his brain. "Do you know what Mom was talking about? My case?"

Emma glanced at the open door before sitting down on the bed and leaning against his uninjured side. "Dad's making sure that all of the evidence was gathered to put the guy who shot you in jail for his white collar crimes as well as your-" she gestured to his sling.

Neal should have known that Reese would be on top of that. He had been talking about retiring for the last year, but Neal suspected that he was staying with the White Collar unit to keep an eye on him. He was both grateful for and frustrated by a protective father. He'd managed to survive for nearly 30 years without a father at all, and he knew that Reese was trying to keep him from the field. Luckily, Peter would rather use his skills in the field than behind a desk, but now that was probably a different story. He sighed and leaned his head against his sister's.

"Everything okay?"

"I'm never going into the field again, am I?"

She laughed. "Probably not for a while, if Dad and/or Peter have anything to say about it." She sobered and picked at a loose thread on her sweater. Neal recognized the habit as he'd done his share of fidgeting with the blanket in his hospital room. "He was frantic yesterday when he called to tell us what happened. I've never heard Peter sound like that."

"It was pretty bad," Neal said quietly. "I don't remember much about it, but it was... bad."

"I'm really glad you're okay."

He smiled and knocked his blanket-covered foot against hers. "I don't want to alarm you, but I'm going to fall asleep in about three minutes. Do you want to turn the TV on? You can pick the movie."

"Normally, I would insist that the invalid gets first pick, but if you're just going to sleep, I'm not going to be stuck watching _Holiday Inn_. Again."

"That is a classic. Bing Crosby, Fred Astaire. White Christmas!"

"Love the song, not so much the movie."

"You're just going to turn on _It's a Wonderful Life_."

"There's nothing wrong with that movie!"

"I didn't say there was," he said around a yawn.

She giggled and turned the TV on while he snuggled down into his pillow and fell asleep.

~~!!~~

The next few days passed uneventfully. Neal continued to rest and heal while Cathy and Emma made cookies and candy and planned the Christmas dinner menu. He tried not to let it bother him; he had wanted to help with dinner and to sketch some of the holiday festivities for Christmas gifts he was going to make everyone next year. He could still sketch since his right arm wasn't injured, but it would be difficult to do it stealthily, which was the point of surprising everyone later.

Michael arrived in time for dinner on Christmas Eve, and they all watched the original _Miracle on 34th Street_ together and reminisced about past holidays over a bottle of eggnog before heading to bed. 

Neal had napped on and off throughout the day, and he'd been cutting back on his pain medication, so he found himself wide awake and more than a little achy around one in the morning. He decided to go down to the kitchen for some water to maybe take a pain pill. The house was dark except for the Christmas lights that lit the stairs and living room. They had left the Christmas tree and other holiday lights on when they'd all gone to bed. 

He was quiet as he made his way down the stairs. Then, he gasped and clutched his chest with his uninjured hand when he saw Michael and Emma sitting together by the large Christmas tree in the living room. 

"What are you doing up?" Emma asked as she scooted over to make room for him on the couch. 

Neal eased himself down on the free cushion and leaned back gingerly. "Couldn't sleep."

Emma gave him a side-eyed look. "Wonder why that is."

"Hey," Michael jumped in, "he's an adult. If he wants to not take his meds and be in pain, then he gets to be in pain."

Neal decided the best thing to do was ignore their teasing, so he turned his attention to the colored lights and the many handmade ornaments on the tree. They had pointed out the few that he'd made as a toddler, which were mostly wooden cut-outs that had been scribbled on with various colored crayons. He didn’t remember making them, but they had clearly been treasured by Reese and Cathy. 

"Here," Michael said, snapping Neal out of his thoughts. He looked up to see his brother standing in front of him holding a steaming mug of hot chocolate. 

"Thanks." Neal took it and smiled when he saw the small marshmallows floating on top. 

"This is a tradition of ours." Emma raised her own mug and gently tapped it against his. "When we were kids, we sat on the steps and tried to watch for Santa, but we always fell asleep before we saw anything."

"Or got caught by Mom and Dad."

"Or that," Emma laughed. "And then, when we got older, we started using it as time to catch up on the last year."

Neal nodded, trying not to feel overwhelmed by the idea that he'd missed so much of his siblings' lives. 

"So," Emma turned to Michael and poked him in the chest, "how are things going with Suzanne?"

Neal had nearly forgotten about Michael's on-again-off-again girlfriend. He'd only met her a couple of times, and she'd been so busy working from her cell phone that she barely even looked up at him. 

Michael rolled his eyes. "Everything's fine."

"Why didn't you invite her to Christmas dinner?" Emma was obviously prodding him, though Neal wasn't sure of her intent.

"She's working on a big case and couldn't get away."

Neal gave him the 'don't give me that bullshit' look that he'd learned from Elizabeth. "On Christmas?"

Michael shrugged. "She's a lawyer in the DA's office. She's busy."

"I say this with love; you have got to dump her and find someone that will actually come home with you on Christmas." Emma couldn't help but add, "Someone that will acknowledge our existence."

"She's not that bad." Michael looked from Emma to Neal. "Is she?"

"She called me Nick three times the last time we had dinner." 

Emma raised an eyebrow. "One of your aliases is named Nick."

"But I never told her that." 

Michael sighed. "What about you two? Any prospects?"

Neal shared a look with Emma, and both shook their heads.

"What's that look about?" Michael looked concerned.

"It's been a really hectic year, and I still have this," Neal pointed to his ankle. "This isn't the best time to get into a relationship." He didn't feel like bringing Kate into this conversation. He'd told them about her before, so there was really no need. Though her death had been a little over a year ago, he sometimes still felt like it had happened yesterday.

Michael held his gaze for a moment before nodding. "That's good thinking. What about you, Em?"

"Nope, no one special to mention." She hopped up and pointed toward the kitchen. "Does anyone else need a cocoa refill?"

"Don't think you're getting out of this just because you leave the room!" Michael called after her and she hurried down the hall. Then, he turned to look at Neal, who was yawning and sinking further down into the couch cushions. "Has she said anything to you?"

"No, I don't think so." He and his sister usually discussed her Art History classes. She'd gone back to school in the fall to finish her Master's degree.

"Don't grill him for information." Emma walked back into the living room and sat in the armchair closest to Neal. She curled up, tucking her feet under her while she sipped at her mug. "There might be someone, but we've only gone on a couple of dates, so I'm not sure what's going to happen."

Michael smiled at her and made a 'go on' motion with his hand. 

"Her name is Steph. She's in my Gothic Art course, and we've had coffee and dinner and saw the new Star Wars movie together."

"She sounds great," Michael said, still smiling. He looked pleased that she was spending time with someone, and Neal agreed with that sentiment. He wanted Emma to be happy.

"She's been really sweet. It's nice to have someone to spend time with outside of school."

Neal said, "I'm looking forward to meeting her. Maybe we can all have dinner together in a couple of weeks?"

"I'd like that a lot. Thanks, Neal."

He nodded and let his eyes fall shut. They were all quiet then, except for the muffled squeaks of the furniture as they each shifted to get comfortable. Neal intended to open his eyes again, to get up and go back to bed, but he was weirdly comfortable wedged into the corner of the couch. 

~~!!~~

He woke to whispers some time later. Lazily, he opened his eyes to see Reese and Cathy standing in the doorway, arms around each other, tears in their eyes, talking softly. All he could hear was 'kids' and 'so happy'. 

Turning his head minutely allowed him to see that Michael was sprawled across the other end of the couch with his head thrown back, snoring quietly. And then looking to his other side revealed Emma curled up under a blanket, still asleep. 

Neal needed the bathroom and more pain medication and not in that order. He pushed himself to sit up and winced as pain rushed through his arm and into his chest. He had no idea how long he'd been sleeping, but it had been hours since he'd last taken any medicine.

His parents sprung into action. Before he knew it, Reese was leaning over him, telling him to breathe through it, and then Cathy was handing him a pill and a glass of water. They fussed over him for a few minutes until Emma and Michael woke up. By the time everyone was heading into the kitchen for breakfast, Neal was feeling better. 

Even though this Christmas had started out less than ideal, Neal was glad to spend the time getting to know his family more. He loved that Michael and Emma let him be a part of their traditions. He hoped that he would be able to contribute more next year, but for now, he was going to sit back and enjoy the holidays. 

~End

Merry Christmas everyone!!


End file.
